"You who tear through clouds with iron wings, prey on beasts with iron talons, and pierce steel with iron beaks—arise! Let my arrow transform into the Arcadian Birds, to pursue my enemy across land and sky!"
Heracles released the arrows from his bow, and to Artoria's surprise, they transformed mid-flight into massive metallic birds, their wings shimmering with an uncanny, steel-like gleam as they dove toward her.
Artoria prepared to block the incoming birds, but her [Instinct] flared a warning. Without hesitation, she executed [Reduced Earth], narrowly evading their attack.
Reappearing several meters away, she eyed the birds warily, her gaze hard and thoughtful.
"Blocking or parrying isn't an option?"
Heracles' sixth labor had been to drive away the Stymphalian Birds of Arcadia.
According to myth, these enormous birds had iron wings, talons, and beaks capable of piercing bronze shields. Their feathers rained down like deadly arrows, rendering them nearly unstoppable. When Heracles found himself at a loss, Athena had gifted him two massive bronze castanets, crafted by Hephaestus, which he used to scare the birds away.
While Artoria mulled over this, the metallic birds wheeled in the sky and turned back toward her, launching another attack.
Unable to block. Unable to evade.
"Fine, I'll just destroy them all!"
Black light erupted from her blade, a torrent of cursed energy that engulfed the entire flock of birds, reducing them to ash.
With her near-inexhaustible reserves of magical energy, Artoria had the luxury of using her Noble Phantasms like ordinary attacks.
Never before—at least not before becoming a Heretic God—had she fought a battle where she could afford such extravagance.
Yet, her mood was anything but pleased.
"You... Are you incapable of fighting without throwing cannon fodder at me? Or do you think these nuisances can actually pose a threat? Are you mocking me?"
Her voice, sharp and cold, carried over the battlefield. As if to emphasize her frustration, she swung her cursed blade, redirecting the black torrent toward Heracles. The attack streaked toward him but was deftly evaded.
"Far from it," Heracles replied evenly. "Your strength exceeds my expectations. Though we are enemies, I hold deep respect for you."
He nodded slightly, then added, "But you're right… These techniques can't threaten you. To persist in this way would indeed be pointless."
Heracles' body began to change.
The divine light that radiated from him like the sun grew dark and twisted. A suffocating aura of death and decay poured forth, shrouding his figure.
"Then let me show you my final trial!"
As he finished speaking, a dense, malevolent magical energy surged around him, swirling into a violent storm. The air itself howled as winds tore across the battlefield, waves rose high enough to scrape the heavens, and the very color of the sky dimmed.
This oppressive energy reeked of death, carrying a fearsome godly presence that struck terror into all living things.
It was clear he had invoked his final trial.
The Twelve Labors, decreed by his brother King Eurystheus, had been Heracles' journey of redemption—twelve tasks deemed impossible by the gods.
The Nemean Lion.
The Hydra of Lerna.
The Ceryneian Hind.
The Erymanthian Boar.
Cleaning the Augean Stables.
Driving away the Stymphalian Birds.
Capturing the Cretan Bull.
Subduing Diomedes' man-eating mares.
Retrieving Hippolyta's Girdle.
Bringing back Geryon's cattle.
Plucking the golden apples of the Hesperides.
And finally...
The twelfth labor, considered truly insurmountable: venturing into the Underworld to battle the three-headed guard dog, Cerberus, and return with the beast.
The storm of death split open, revealing a monstrous figure within.
Heracles' once-pristine, marble-like physique was now marred by jagged, blood-red markings. His once-divine golden eyes had turned feral, glowing crimson with madness. His sclera were pitch black, and his left eye bore a web of blood vessels.
His fingernails had grown long and claw-like, and a spiked collar adorned his neck. His jet-black hair, now lengthened, whipped wildly in the storm, resembling a writhing mass of venomous serpents.
This was Heracles' twelfth Authority—a transformation that turned the calm and disciplined [Steel] Hero into a berserk, bloodthirsty beast.
Unlike his other abilities, this one could not be combined with any others.
The now-monstrous Heracles fixed his blood-red gaze on Artoria, who stood ready in the distance. He crouched low, exhaling hot, misty breaths that scorched the air around him.
"Apologies… for the wait."
His words carried the last shred of his rationality.
"Now… Let's begin!"
The moment the words left his lips, Heracles exploded forward with terrifying force, the shockwave of his acceleration blasting Artoria backward through the air.
Recovering mid-flight, Artoria flipped once and planted her feet on an invisible foothold.
Heracles charged at her like an unstoppable juggernaut, his movements as wild and ferocious as a rampaging boar.
With her cursed blade in hand, Artoria stepped forward and struck.
Her blackened slash cut through the air but found only empty space—Heracles had evaded her attack effortlessly.
A shadow loomed over her. Using [Reduced Earth], Artoria sidestepped the incoming blow, causing Heracles to miss. She countered with a sharp punch to his head.
The sheer force of the strike generated a gust that tore through the surrounding air.
But Heracles merely turned his head, unaffected. His neck muscles alone overpowered the strength of her blow.
"Both endurance and strength have increased significantly?"
Heracles' claws swung toward her again. Artoria ducked under the strike and retaliated with another punch, this time to his abdomen.
The hit forced Heracles to stagger back, but it only served to fuel the ferocity in his crimson eyes.
"ROAR!!"
The earth-shaking roar echoed across the battlefield.
Artoria sighed faintly, her gaze steady yet tinged with exasperation.
"Really now… Do you have a Berserker class variant in every world?"
Despite the levity of her words, her tone remained calm. She raised her blade, its cursed flames licking the air menacingly.
Heracles lunged at her again, his massive frame closing the distance in an instant.
Slash!
The sound of a blade slicing through muscle echoed, accompanied by the roar of flames.
Heracles' monstrous body bore a new wound, black flames crackling along the edges of the cut.
But even as her attack landed, his massive fist struck her squarely in return.
The collision was deafening.
The air itself groaned under the pressure, and Artoria was sent hurtling backward like a comet, her body tearing through the battlefield.
---
...
Huh. You really stuck it out all the way to the end.
Didn't think you had the patience. Guess I was wrong.
WiseTL's the one who actually made all this come together. I'm just here putting a bow on it… or, well, shoving it in a backpack and calling it a day. Same thing.
If you had fun, you know what to do:
👉 [patreon.com/WiseTL]
Heads up—Patreon's 50% off for all tiers during May. So if you were on the fence? Now's the time.
And if you're the social type, there's a Discord too. Pretty decent spot to hang out—no battles required.
👉 [discord.gg/wisetl]
Alright. That's enough standing around. Go on—before you make it weird.
—Leaf